You don’t choose the day you enter the world and you don’t choose the day you leave. It’s what you do in between that makes all the difference. – Anita Septimus

Saturday, May 12, 2012 (DAYS 69 & 70)My day of rest is a welcome sight as I wake up to the sun shining on my face from the slightly open window across from me. A quick glance around the room and I notice that I am the first person awake in the six-person dorm room that now consists of all guys. Prior to beginning this amazing adventure that has brought me to day number 69, I had always imagined sleeping in daily, removed from the grind of a more structured lifestyle, yet I find that not only do I have more energy and am well rested, but that I tend to begin my days with the early morning sunrise that is typically before 7am. After a quick shower I am headed down to the restaurant area of Zoola’s for my daily routine cup of complimentary coffee when I find Lindsay sitting outside her room. Debating the possibility of splurging for a notoriously rumored all-you-can-eat brunch, I am still uncertain in my decision. While contemplating my options, Michelle joins us and it is only after more than an hour of pleading and begging in a rather embarrassing manner that may have involved tears and blackmail, I am finally invited to join the Canadians for brunch. Score another one for Team Merica.

As we are leaving the hostel, my swagger is noticeably strong as I have a girl on each arm while wearing my extremely soft purple fur coat with matching crocodile leather boots, a gleaming diamond-studded glass cane is permanently fixated in my right hand careful not to distract from the numerous oversized platinum rings on each of my ten digits, and as I walk with a jaw-dropping limp I smile as we exit exposing my 24-carat gold grill that completes the ensemble, and, in our nonchalant method of exiting there seems to be unnecessary attention directed towards us and this of course causes the only guy from Brooklyn worthy enough to receive an invite to our morning feast. I might have exaggerated just a little. Forgive me, but I actually think it was snakeskin leather boots not crocodile. Apologies, I know I can be a bit of a storyteller. I just hope you don’t think too poorly of my character for that miniscule oversight. And, despite what you may think, the photo is not an accurate depiction of my memory frozen forever in time, but since I am an expert in Photoshop I didn't want to appear deceptive.

Walking the narrow streets that are more like alleyways, we are forced in to a single-file line as half a dozen horses swing around the corner and, I cannot help but laugh at the unique situations I experience on a daily basis. Gorging ourselves in true North American fashion, we have hidden our gluttony in the back patio of El Barrio that will forever be our place of shame. Unable to move from the most delicious breakfast I have had thus far, James and I still cannot believe that the five-star buffet was only Q40 ($5). I can truthfully say I have never experienced a better quality of an all-you-can-eat meal for the price. A close-second would have to be a meal I shared with the guys at Golden Corral before I left, where I think I only had explosive diarrhea eight or nine times that afternoon, not including the evening or late-night sessions. Thanks again to Mr. Kristopher Tuller, Jeremy Vlad, and Milk Chocolate for a day that my bowels will never forget.

My day of rest continues poolside digesting our expansive meal that would have any fat kid green with envy. The four of us spread out around the edge of the pool as a clear panoramic view of the volcanic mountains on the other side of Lago de Atitlan is visible between bouts of sunshine through the low hanging clouds that pass over head. Our lazy afternoon of peace and tranquility creates the perfect environment for reading and intellectual conversation, that is, until a heated debate is spawned over whether Helen Keller would be the perfect candidate for Terminator 4: If I find you…I’ll murnt da durnt burnt. Before a logical conclusion could be reached, both security and the militant forces of Guatemala had to intervene to bring back civil order to the once peaceful location that precluded the shenanigans of the raucous misfit that is known as, Helen Adams Keller. Serenity now. SERENITY NOW! Pausing to calm our egos in the cool waters of the pool, a new trend is developing as naps are beginning to be the popular choice. Being a gentleman and supporter of equal opportunity for gender rights, I let Lindsay lug over the large black body pillow in the heat of the afternoon and before she has properly set it down my head has already claimed the prime real estate. You’re welcome feminists.

As night falls on San Pedro, our group begins to grow in the form of an international collectivo that has become the standard practice of my new life. We are joined by a hilarious group, all from Common Wealth countries–Canada, Australia, and of course England, that brings our energy level up for the evening after the stereotypical fancy spot of tea and before I know it we parading through the streets only to return to the place that fed us our magically delicious brunch. Man, I really hope that little green leprechaun isn’t a nasty sue-happy money grubber just looking to add to his pot of gold, otherwise I’m going directly to the black market to hire Count Chocula to take him out, just like he did that infamous tiger with his flamboyantly fancy handkerchief that will, for security reasons, continue to be nameless. Savoring the moment of a dinner that has no limitations on time and is absent of curfews or following appointments, our Saturday night has brought the quiet restaurant to life, but before the meals arrive James quiets our group with a very sincere toast to begin the night’s festivities. The dinner should be sponsored by Kleenix with the amount of tears that are produced, but I assure Lindsay and Maf that we will all be friends forever, and before you know it the entire table and then, all of San Pedro is holding hands singing the famed Vitamin-C jam, “As we go on, we remember, all the times we had together. And as our lives change, from whatever, we will still be, friends forever.” Sorry, that gets me every time.

After wiping away the dribbling snot from our faces and pull our clenched arms from around one another, we recompose ourselves and head back to Zoola’s for a good ole fashioned Saturday night movie night where we learn the five D’s of Dodgeball–dodge, duck, dip, dive, and dodge. Unfortunately members of the once-proud British Empire retire for the night leaving the majority of the faithful red, white, and blue to console one another amid two maple leafs and our quiet Dutchman, Kenneth.

Sunday, I have reached the milestone of 70 days of travel, and yet, it feels as though I’ve only been gone for a few weeks. When I look back on the past few months, I think about all that I have accomplished, the places I have been to, the friends that I have made along the way, and while the perception from this perspective is grand, I also think about where my life would be if I were unable to have the courage in taking this leap towards a life I am fortunate enough to continue to experience daily. I have never pushed myself so hard, removed myself so far from my comfort zones, and have seen that I have more within me than I could have ever imagined if I would have sided with the security of my current life for one of adventure that pushes me to the limits of the person I am sure I will become when this great journey comes to an end. However, I worry not for the day that this may happen, but continue to live within the present, because tomorrow has not happened and there is plenty to worry about today.

About the Author

My name is Troy and I gave up a promising 12-year career to travel the world! Now after more than 4-years of continuous global travel, I've lived an incredible life and my goal is to inspire others to achieve their dreams!